Under a Streetlight
by Chibi Taryn Demon
Summary: Can love, as fragile as it is, really bloom under a streetlight in the depths of Midgar? Chapter 1 up! AU, Aeris/Reno.


Under a Streetlight

An AU Aeris Romance

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Disclaimer: FFVII and all related characters, places, and things are property of Squaresoft and Sony.

A/N: I got the inspiration for this fic from a wonderful Aeris/Reno fanart by Aerith-chan (even though now I'm not sure what the pairing here will be!). I don't remember the link, but it pictured Reno and Aeris standing together—you guessed it—under a streetlight. Aeris pairings are fun to write, definitely. It would be neat if someone tried to write every Aeris pairing there is, including the weird and never-before-seen ones like Aeris/Cid or Aeris/Rude! O_o Well, anyways, enjoy!

chapter 01: news 

The wind was bitterly cold, and the hidden sky was presumably very dark. Coldness clung to every corner and surface, dripped off the rounded edges of the plate, bit at the exposed skin of all passerby. Smoke drifted lazily through the air, obscuring with a dusky veil the few patches of night sky still unblocked by the plate or skyscrapers. Every now and then, a vehicle would zoom down the mostly-abandoned streets with its headlights bright and glaring, sending up a splash of dirty runoff water. Figures lolled about on the sidewalks, hazy, indistinct…gone. Sector 5 was a virtual haven for those who had no place left to go: drunks, homeless, poor, lost souls all. They went about their business, ignoring each other and the stifled, abused vestiges of the Planet about them. Everything smog and soot, silver and metal. Nothing different, nothing out of the ordinary.

But then, nights in the broken city of Midgar always were very similar to one another.

There was a rustling noise, as some newspapers were crushed underfoot; then, a young woman poked her head out from around a corner. She checked to make sure the street was clear, and stepped from her spot. She was a strangely bright speck among the dull grays and blacks of the metropolis, in her pink dress, red jacket, and honey-brown hair. Aeris Gainsborough, a demure smile on her face, carefully maneuvered her way down the shadowy streets, sticking close to the walls and avoiding the few sickly patches of light. Cautiously, with the measured step of one who knows the slums, she walked quickly down the street, an empty basket in her hands. 

She slipped into a ramshackle building, squeezing through the rotting, fallen door and into the darkness inside. One great spire lifted itself into the sky, and broken stained glass windows were the only vestiges of its former glory. People had forgotten about this building and what it stood for; only Aeris remembered the church. 

The young woman stepped quietly down the aisle, looking not at the dusty pews and littering debris but at the area where the pulpit used to be. In its place was a patch of brown earth teeming with golden-petalled flowers. They fairly sang with life, and Aeris beamed to hear them. 

"Hello, my sweethearts!" She laughed. "I hope you're all doing well." Incredibly, the flowers seemed to lean towards her as she spoke, appearing to listen adoringly to each word to pass from her lips. 

"I made 23 gil today," continued Aeris proudly. "Maybe because it was such a dreary day, people just needed something to brighten it. I bought some more seeds—I had to go all the way to Sector 3 to get them, and the train between 4 and 5 wasn't working, so I had to walk! But here they are, safe and sound." She pulled out a battered packet that rattled slightly. "I thought I would try mums this time; they have such pretty hues." 

There was a creak and a scrape behind her. Aeris whirled around to face a dark-eyed man, black hair pulled back into a half-ponytail, dressed impeccably in a blue suit. 

"Tseng!" She gasped, instinctively leaping to her feet. The man raised her hands, palms facing outward. 

"Calm down, Aeris," he replied in a smooth voice. "I'm off duty right now." Still wary, she slowly sat back down on the floor. A smile touched the corners of her mouth.

"So this is a social call, then?" 

Tseng inclined his head. "I suppose you could say that."  
"So no talk of Shinra, and no trying to persuade me to join them?" She prodded.

"If that's what you want." Tseng played along, the ghost of a smile over his own lips. 

"Good!" Aeris clapped her hands, looking amazingly childlike, and ran over to him. She gave him a quick hug, then led him over to the flowers. 

"You've grown more since I was last here," he observed. The girl nodded happily. 

"Yes, they've really taken to this old church. I'm not sure why, other than that hole in the roof lets in a bit of sunlight every now and then." Shrugging, she bent to pluck one from the dirt, halting when Tseng placed his hands over hers. Startled, she looked up at him.

"I don't think it has to do with the church, Aeris." Tseng said. "I think it's you. They grow for you." Aeris flushed and pulled away. 

"That's not true, I'm sure just about anyone could grow flowers if they tried—"

"That's a lie and you know it," interrupted the TURK. "You're special. You—"

"Tseng, please." A pained look flashed across Aeris's face. "I'm not. And I don't want to talk about it." Tseng sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, but let it drop. His eyes, narrow and black as sable, trailed towards the door. She noticed the switch in his mood, from friendly to troubled, immediately.

"Is something wrong, Tseng?" Aeris moved next to him. 

"It's…I'm only trying to help you, Aeris." Tseng said, deadly serious. "I don't want you…getting forced into anything, okay? That's why I always ask you to join Shinra, instead of forcing you. Because I could." When she didn't argue, he continued. "We got the new TURK a couple days ago. He's still being shown around; that's why he hasn't been given any field jobs yet. I've just got a feeling that next time, the bigwigs are gonna send him looking for you instead of me." 

Aeris was silent, taking in what he had told her. Her green eyes darkened slightly and peered at him. Tseng forced himself to meet her gaze—her eyes were very piecing, almost staring straight to one's soil, though he knew she could not control that. Not anymore than she could control the flowers, anyway. 

"Do they suspect you, then?" She asked sorrowfully. Tseng did not answer. "I'm sorry, Tseng. I don't want you to get in trouble for helping me. But I can't go back to Shinra…! I just can't." 

"Just be careful, Aeris. This new TURK is very crafty, and not afraid to use force, from what I've read in his file. I'll try to remain on your assignment for as long as I can, but if you see him coming…run." Tseng said. 

"I will," she nodded. Turning away, Aeris plucked a flower and then presented it to Tseng. "Thank you, my friend. I can never repay you. You're like my guardian angel…"

Tseng laughed humorlessly. "I'm no one's guardian angel. I've killed indiscriminately before, and I'll do it again. Your capture is the only mission I've never carried out." He saw the unspoken question in her eyes.

Why? Why, if you can kill a man without flinching, why do you shy away from capturing me, one unimportant girl?

But he could never tell her the answer. She would never be ready to hear it, not from a murderer like him. She wouldn't understand that it was too late for him; he could never be cleansed of the myriad sins he had committed. She was his final attempt at some measure redemption. Aeris was pure and sweet and kind and beautiful. She did not belong in a cold, sterile lab—but truth to be told, she did not belong in Midgar either. To Tseng, she deserved to be somewhere as exquisite as she, the fabled Promised Land, perhaps. A place of ultimate, everlasting happiness.

If he could keep her from the clutches of Shinra…maybe their own tight grip on him would not seem so bad.                       

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With an exaggerated sigh, Reno Vaeda tossed his dark blue jacket onto the nicely-carpeted floor of his new room and flopped onto the bed. Strands of unruly red hair tickled his face, and he irritably brushed them away. He put his arms behind his head and closed his ice-blue eyes. 

"Boy, whatta day." He commented to the empty room. "If I gotta listen to that ol' Shinra or his prissy brat ramble on any more, I think I'll just quit." He laughed at that, recalling easily what Tseng, the leader of the TURKS, had told him when they first met: "TURKS never resign. We're killed before we hit the age requirement." It was said, he supposed, to try to discourage him, because Tseng didn't seem to be the type of guy to joke around. 

But Tseng didn't know Reno. If he allowed himself to be discouraged, well, he wouldn't have made it to the TURKS in the first place. 

"This is the life, though. Those boys at Shinra pay well." Reno sat up and looked around his room one more time. There was a mahogany desk and chair in one corner. A large, flat-screen television sat across from a low leather couch. The floor was covered in plush red carpet. The walls were cream, and several expensive-looking paintings—probably originals, not prints or anything cheap like that!—decorated them at strategic points. A doorway led to his room, where his bed, dresser, and bathroom were; another doorway led to the small kitchen. 

Reno's hand hit something, and he started. He grabbed it and realized it was the manila folder that creepy Professor Hojo had given him. Something about his first mission. 

Reno carelessly ripped open the folder and dumped the contents onto his bed. His attention was grabbed first by the photo that fluttered out.

"Hmm." Reno studied it, then scanned the typed sheet that accompanied it. "They call this a mission? Find and bring a little girl back to headquarters? Damn. I didn't join the TURKs to become a goddamn babysitter! Even if it is for a freaky little half-alien." He crumpled up the assignment sheet and tossed it into the nearby trashcan, contemplating to do the same to the supplied picture…but something held him back. Instead, he set it on the nightstand. The girl in the picture looked about six or seven years old. Her hair was light brown, in a twisted braid topped with a pink bow. Her eyes were a very pretty green, but looked haunted, as though she had seen things a child should never have to. On the back, a scribbled name and order.

Specimen 02-AGC. To be found at all costs.

"At all costs," mused Reno. "Heh. I like the sound of that!" 

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End file.
